Chapter 7 - The Hunt
The woods of upstate New York were freezing, wrapped in a blanket of thick, blinding snow. It felt familiar. It felt like the mountains where I lost my squad.
I moved silently through the tree line, dressed in tactical winter gear. There were four guards patrolling the perimeter of the sprawling timber lodge. They were heavily armed, but they were sloppy. They relied on their scopes, not their instincts.
I dropped the first one silently, pulling him into a snowbank and securing his radio. The second and third were grouped by the back generator. I cut the power to the lodge.
Plunged into darkness, the guards panicked. It took me less than three minutes to disarm and incapacitate them, leaving them zip-tied in the snow.
I kicked in the back door of the lodge. Arthur was frantically throwing stacks of cash and a heavy leather-bound book into a duffel bag by the light of a flashlight.
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He looked up, freezing like a deer in headlights when he saw me standing in the doorway, an ice-cold glare in my eyes.
"Going somewhere, Uncle?"
